Insolent Angel
by M. Hikaru
Summary: Meet Kudo Yohji, self-proclaimed thief extraordinare --there isn't a job he's failed yet, and he's damned proud of it. That is, until he finds himself in possession of a strange marble statue... (AU) [Ch2 revised, Ch3 uploaded!]
1. Yotan wakes up wet and confused

Warnings: AU, yaoi 

Dedication: For her wonderful fics and even more wonderful inspiration --this one's for you, Kurai-chan! 

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Insolent Angel 

Part 1 

It was the wrong day for a mission. 

Pushing sopping blonde hair out of his eyes, Kudo Yohji cursed yet again. Scaling a tower wall while a storm raged overhead wasn't something that sane people did with their spare time. It was no surprise that he wasn't spotted. Even the guards had understood the futility of being out in weather like this. Letting loose another rather profuse obscenity, Youji attempted to ignore the pain as his foot --once more-- slipped from its precarious purchase on rain-slicked wall. 

"If it hadn't been that damned down payment..." Yohji muttered as he continued the arduous climb, progress painstakingly slow. 

------------------------ 

The crowd in _The Canary_ was surprisingly sparse for a weekend. Sauntering in through the usual side door, Yohji calmly surveyed the bar through his sunglasses before taking a seat next to the bartender's corner. 

"Whaddya have, sir?" the short blonde boy behind the counter put down the glass he was polishing to smile. 

Smirking back at the boy, Yohji reached out and affectionately ruffled the boy's hair. "The usual, Omi." 

Sticking his tongue out in retort, Omi poured him a vodka straight before leaning over to whisper in the other man's ear. "There's someone asking for Balinese." the boy gestured to the man sitting at a secluded table, "I told him that I could take a message, but he 'kept insisting that he _had_ to tell you personally." 

Pulling his hood down to further cover his face, Yohji nodded before getting up. Drink in hand, he strolled over and casually took a seat across from the startled man. Taking his momentary confusion to study his possible-employer, Yohji deducted that the man was probably in his mid-forties considering the fact that his hair and goatee was only slightly graying. 

"Hello. I assume you're Balinese?" the man pulled himself back together rather quickly. 

"That would be me." Yohji drawled out "And you are here because you've heard of my overwhelming abundance of charm?" 

The corners of the man's lip twitched as the stranger bit down a grin. "Actually, I was wondering if you'd take a rather odd job." 

"My charm is insulted." 

This time, the man did smile. "Well, perhaps it can be alleviated by this." 

Yohji immediately felt a leather-bound coin purse being thrust into his hands under the table. Untying the bindings, he allowed himself a glance at it. His breath caught in his throat. Glimmering within the purse, the sheer amount of gold were overwhelming. 

"Five-hundred gaelons." 

The lanky blonde let out a low whistle from beneath his cloak. "You must be lusting after something pretty badly." 

"Well, yes, aren't we all? There are a number of... special conditions you must follow." the man smirked, "And _that_ was just the down-payment." 

"Special conditions, my ass!" the wind and water took an opportunity to lash against his face as Yohji continued his climb, "Why would anyone require that a marble statuette would _have _to be stolen during a storm?!" 

Reaching a hand up, the man caught hold of the windowsill before pulling himself up to peer into his destination. As expected, the room was dark and vacant. 

Yohji balanced on the ledge by his elbows, easily inserted a wire through the cracks of the windows, and felt satisfaction as he heard a soft click. The window slid open. Hoisting himself up, the man vaulted into the room. 

Immediately setting to work, viridian eyes surveyed the sparsely decorated room. There was a desk in one corner, and he briskly walked over to it, determined to get the job over with. 

A flash of lightening illuminated the room. 

Catching movement in the corner of his eye, Yohji whirled. 

And froze. 

In their brief conversation, the man at the bar --like most clients, he didn't give his name-- had described the object that he was to steal as "a marble statuette of an angel, exquisitely carved in detail". The description gave all the hints of being small, demure, and palm-sized. 

Well, apparently, the man had stressed the word "statuette" out of bounds of the human language. 

Slumping down onto the floor with a dejected sigh, Yohji glared at the very large, very heavy, very life-size statue of the angel. 

And he was running out of options. 

Option one was his original grab-and-go-back-down-the-tower plan. Obviously, _that_ wasn't possible any longer since he'd either 1) drop the goods, or 2) drop with the goods. Both of which were unacceptable and completely out of the question. 

Option two was he could take the statue in hand, haul it down the tower, and saunter out the front door. Oh yes, he could imagine the conversation with castle-owner already. "Hello good sir. I'm in the process of stealing a very precious possession from you for no reason other than commerce If you could kindly move out of the way? And you'll call off your guards and open the gate for me as well? Well, god bless sir, I'll be on my way!" 

And obviously, since there were only two exits out of the tower, Balinese: thief, assassin, and generally a man who prided himself in his own cunning, was without a third option. 

Staring stonily at the angel --who, of course, stared stonily back-- Yohji felt a vague alarm as a sudden drowsiness descended upon him. All he got out was a confused mumble before he slumped over and fell unconscious. 

------------------------ 

Someone had forgotten to close the window. 

Despite the fact that his eyes were still closed, Yohji could feel little droplets of rain splattering onto his face. Muttering under his breath, the lanky blonde pulled himself into a sitting position, swung his feet over the edge of the bed and stumbled over to the windowsill. Irately slamming the window shut, Yohji rubbed sleep and rain out of his eyes. 

Then stopped. 

And glanced at the bed he just got out of. 

Recognized the black satin sheets. Recognized the mahogany bedpost. Recognized the slightly tattered plush cat. 

It was his room. He was back in his loft above _The Canary_, as if the mission was a bad dream that never happened. 

But if that was so, why was he in his Balinese gear and dripping wet? 

Taking a deep breath, Yohji prepared himself, then slowly turned around. 

And barely managed to bite back a shriek. 

Streaks of fresh rain still glistening against marble, the statue towered over him, its blank ivory eyes appraising. 

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*Bribes prospective-reviewers with chocolate-dipped-Yotans!* 

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	2. Yotan goes to the Local Brothel

Warnings: AU, implied het-scene (yeah yeah, this is still a yaoi fic... it just hasn't gotten to the yaoi yet... ¬¬;) 

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Insolent Angel 

Part 2 

  


------------------------ 

  


There was no logical explanation for it.

  


Slumping back against a wall, Yohji glared at the marble angel incredulously. All that he had learned of matter, physics, and the invisible forces governing the world strictly stated that this was an impossibility. His dripping clothes as proof, he obviously didn't hallucinate his mission. There was just _no way_ that he could have appeared back in his room with a statue.

  


Unless it was magic.

  


But that was, as everyone knew, only superstitious nonsense.

  


Superstitious nonsense which was etched into a rather bloody past. Once, a long time ago, innocents had been tortured and slaughtered for being suspected of carrying the ability to do impossible things.

  


But that was the past, and he had more pressing matters in the present to engage in.

  


Like a certain oversized-statue in the middle of his room.

  


Despite the fact that dawn had yet to break, the early gray light filtering through the rain was enough to illuminate the angel. Walking over to it, Yohji had the chance to study the statue as he could not in the tower room. His employer had been right. Carved down to the painstaking detail of every last feather, the angel stood its full human height, just as tall as Yohji himself. As with many classical sculptures, the figure wasn't adored in any clothing. Giant wings flared around shapely marble shoulders, feathers just managing to drape around the lower torso to provide a hint of modesty.

  


It was the face, however, that won him over.

  


High defined cheekbones, a generous mouth, and stubborn chin --features that gave the statue an regal air of command. The hair was also odd, carved so fine that unruly bangs graced the forehead, ear-tails fell and traced the eye from cheek to lean neck.

  


But the eyes...

  


...the eyes were exquisite.

  


Half-lidded blank pupils regarded him with an expression that could only be read as contempt. Absently, Yohji felt himself wondering what color those marble eyes would be if they were real.

  


Some dark and turbulent color. Perhaps dark blue...

  


...or violet.

  


And then the exhaustion sank in, thoroughly soaking his body in mind-numbing weariness. The climb must have taken much more out of him than he thought. Stumbling his way across his room, he managed to collapse on the bed just as he fell unconscious. 

  


If he dreamt, he remembered none of it.

  


------------------------ 

  
  


By the time Yohji awoke, sunlight had long flooded into his room, tinging everything with a shade of honey. Rubbing sleep from drowsy viridian eyes, the man sat up, only to realize that he had yet to change out of his gear. He shrugged out of slightly damp clothing --the sun had nearly dried it-- and pulled on his usual leather trousers, linen shirt.

  


The marble angel caught his eye before he could leave the room.

  


So it hadn't been a dream.

  


Damn.

  


Irately running a hand through tousled blonde hair, Yohji shrugged. The delivery was scheduled for tonight, the tiresome statue would be out of his hands, and Yohji would be all the richer for it. When all the pros were laid down like that, fortuitous details (such as how the angel got to be in his possession) were irrelevent.

  


Humming a happy little tune under his breath, Yohji sauntered down to the kitchen.

  


------------------------ 

  


"Yohji! Put that back!"

  


Grinning, the older man stuffed the fresh muffin into his mouth. After chewing a few times, he pointed toward his full cheeks, as if to ask "do you _still_ want it back?".

  


Omi rolled his eyes. "Jeez, it makes you wonder who's the more mature out of the both of us."

  


"Me of course: I'm older." Yohji swallowed, smirked, then reached for another muffin.

  


The blonde boy let out a exasperated sigh. "By the way, you're going to have to pay for that."

  


"Put it on my tab." Waving, Yohji sauntered out the door.

  


It wasn't until the Yohji was out of sight when Omi discovered that the entire stock of custard creams had mysteriously disappeared from their tray.

  


"YOHJIIIII!!!!!" echoed through the back alleyway of the inn, but by this time, all the inhabitants of the street were too used to this occurance to pay it any mind.

  


------------------------ 

  
  


The walk to _Shrient_ was comfortably short. By the time he reached the curtained doors, his mind was completely distracted from his conundrum of an job.

  


"Yotan! It's been a while!" slim arms wrapped around his shoulders "Where were you? I was starting to get worried!"

  


"Schoen, you know I can't afford to visit you beauties every day." giving the blonde girl a rakish grin, he looked around the brothel. "Where's Neu?"

  


"No fair!" Schoen attached herself more firmly to Yohji's back, her ample cleavage pratically rubbing against his shoulderblades, "You _always_ take Neu! Why not one of the rest of us, Yotan? Why not me?" a pretty pout.

  


"Me too! Me too! Toto wants Yotan-chan too!" the blue-haired girl ran into the room and glomped Yohji.

  


"Y-yo Toto-chan."

  


Toto detached herself and held up her stuffed bunny. "Usa-chan wants to play with Yotan-chan!"

  


"I, uh, think I'll pass Toto-chan." Yohji managed to bit down a gulp of apprenhension. Tot had a mind of a 4 year old, but possessed the body of a hormonal teenager. Things like that _shouldn't mix_. But she still had clients. Her most recent one was apparently someone named "Masafumi-papa". Yohji surpressed a shudder. Pedophiles.

  


"Awww..." tears trembled in the girl's eyes "B-b-but Toto wants to plaaay...."

  


"Tot, leave Yohji alone. It's bad for business when you scare away the customers." A crisp, sharp voice cut in.

  


"B-but Heruuu-chaaaaaan--!"

  


Hell gave the girl a look. "No buts. Go."

  


Thinking this over, Toto (not surprisingly) came to the only conclusion she could considering her mentality. "Okaaay!" detaching herself from Yohji, she bounced toward the back room. "Bye-bye Yotan-chan! Come back and play with Toto-chan some other time, okay?"

  


"Uhh... sure." once she was out of the parlor, Yohji threw Hell a grateful look. "And you look as stunning as ever, Hell."

  


Leather straps shifted as Hell placed a hand on her hip, painted lips twisting up into a smirk. "And you wouldn't be up for a little 'fun', now would you Yohji?"

  


"No fair, Hell!" Schoen tightly pressed herself against Yohji, "I saw him first!"

  


"Well, _I'm _the one he's interested in..."

  


Truth be told, Yohjji was interested in neither of them, and was started to have serious doubts about his plan to work off his excess tension. Schoen, though she seemed soft and feminine, had a rather large affinity with whips, and Hell lived up to her namesake --the woman thought that castration was the funniest joke brought on mankind!

  


"Actually, I was looking for Neu. Is she in today?"

  


"Yes, she's upstairs, finishing up." Hell gave Yohji a rather bemused smirk, "Looks like she's a popular girl today. Of course, we could occupy your time much better." Hell leaned forward and licked his ear.

  


Yohji slipped out from between both Hell and Schoen's grasp and feigned cheer. "Ah, I see! If she's busy, I'll just come back later!"

  


"Yohji?" the low, impassive voice announced Neu's arrival from the side door.

  


"Neu!" Yohji let out a silent sigh of relief. Being fought over by the scariest women in town wasn't exactly a placating experience. "I thought you were upstairs!" a pointed look at Hell.

  


The said woman smirked. "It was worth a shot."

  


Neu gave Yohji another apathetic look before putting down the groceries and starting up the stairs. Yohji followed quickly, feeling the weight of Schoen's glare on his back.

  


Reaching the second floor, Yohji took a moment to study Neu as she unlocked one of the rooms. Short, soft hair, so dark it was nearly blue, deep brown eyes... it was so easy to imagine that she was Asuka poking at the lock with a paperclip, half-giggling and half-cursing as she apologized for forgetting their keys in the room.

  


The door unlocked, but reality hit when there was no triumphant squeal. Neu gazed impassively at him as they walked into the room.

  


Asuka was dead. Nothing would bring her back.

  


Yet, Yohji found himself pretending as he and Neu sank into the sheets.

  


------------------------ 

  


By the time Yohji returned from _Shrient_, dusk had fallen. According to plan, he had floundered away his entire day, and had barely enough time to bathe and dress before it was time for his meeting with his employer. Pulling on his usual cloak, the man lazily sauntered to the downstairs tavern of _The Canary._

  


Yohji ordered a vodka shot.

  


And waited.

  


And waited.

  


And waited.

  


"Balinese?"

  


Yohji looked up from his (once again) empty drink at the red-haired woman. "Who wants to know?" he slurred

  


The woman grimaced, which led Yohji to insinuate that his breath wasn't all that great. "_The cat stalks at midnight. _My name is Manx, and I've come on behalf of my lord and your current employer, Persia."

  


The password. So, this was the contact who would take that damnable statue out of his room. An alarm went off in Yohji's mind as he recognized the cat-breed aliases. Sitting upright, the man regarded the woman who called herself 'Manx', all pretense of being inebiated forgotten. "Weiß?"

  


Manx nodded, her red curls gave a slight spring. "Two days ago, Persia-sama gave you a job of retrieving a statuette, yes?"

  


"Yeah, it was a hell of a j--"

  


"Do you know why he asked you to do so?" Manx interrupted him.

  


Giving the woman a suspicious look, Yohji tilted his head and feigned nonchallance. "Isn't that something you should ask your beloved 'Persia-sama'?"

  


"Persia-sama's dead." the woman bit her lip aprehensively, "He was murdered early this morning, quite gruesomely. He... the only thing that was of any importance in his safe was his detailed description of the meeting with you. We.. I... was hoping that you had some sort of clue why he was killed."

  


"The only thing that he wanted me to get was the statue..." Yohji wondered if he should tell Manx about how the statue mysteriously appeared within his room. And then decided against it. He couldn't allow such a beautiful woman to view him as a delusional idiot --at least, not on the first meeting. It simply wasn't done.

  


"Could I see it?"

  


"Don't see why not." giving the nervous woman a rakish grin, Yohji slung an arm over her shoulder, "Of course, there could be _another_ reason why I would want a young, attractive woman in my room."

  


"Pervert." she laughed.

  


"And loving every minute of it." he retorted.

  


They made their way upstairs, down the hall; Yohji unlocked his door. 

  


"So, this is the infamous statue..." Manx strolled around the kneeling marble angel, green eyes scrutinizingly downcast. "It's beautiful..." she breathed, "I wonder why Persia-sama wanted it so badly... any ideas, Balinese?"

  


No voice answered her.

  


"Balinese?"

  


Turning, Manx was met with the priceless image of Kudo Yohji, self-acclaimed thief extrordinaire, gaping like a fish.

  


"What is it?"

  


Yohji's mouth opened and closed soundlessly for a few minutes before he managed out:

  


"The statue. I-It was standing when I left the room..."

  


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Updated and all ready for reviewing! X3 

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	3. Yotan's pride is in Pain

Warnings: AU, yaoi

  


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Insolent Angel

  


Part 3

  


------------------------

  


"I can't believe that woman! Of all the incomprehensible, strange, stupid things to do--!"

  


'You can't exactly blame her,' Yohji's subconscious retorted in Manx's defense, 'Especially since you made that scene. She either thinks that the statue has some sort of dark hidden power, or that you're insane. I'd bet on the latter.'

  


Yohji glowered and mentally told his voice of reason to shut up. Leaning back into his chair, verdant eyes shot the white marble figure a glare.

  


"It's all your fault," the man jabbed a accusing finger at the statue, "Why didja have to be so weird? And now, because _you_ made me have that mental breakdown, I'm stuck with you for who knows how long! And on top of that, _I'm not even getting PAID!_"

  


The marble angel, in its sitting position on the floor, remained hautily silent.

  


"ARG!" growling, Yohji slammed a fist into his desk. A few loose sheafs of paper fluttered placidly toward the floor.

  


Realizing that he _wasn't_ going to get a retort --much less a response-- Yohji threw up his hands, and flopped angrily down on the bed. 

  


"This sucks. This _royally_ sucks. I'm going to bed, and _you_--" another withering glare at the statue "--can do your damned disappearing act and vanish during the night!!"

  


Promptly blowing out the candle, Yohji rolled over to face the wall. 

  


Then turned. 

  


Then shifted. 

  


Then sat up and fluffed his pillow. 

  


A few hours later (after an avid bout of tossing and turning), faint snores filled the room..

  


Had Yohji been awake, his keen hearing would have picked up the sound of marble grating against marble, and the unmistakable scratch of quill against paper.

  


------------------------

  


The morning began as normal as any day.

  


Upon waking up, taking a back arching stretch, and stumbling out of bed, Yohji did not --in his sleep-hazed senses-- deduce anything of amiss in his room. Upon his return from the shower, however, lent a different observation.

  


Bending down to pick up the papers he had scattered in anger, Yohji noticed an extra addition to the sheets of blank paper. On every sheet, a single line had been scrawled across the page. 

  


The handwriting, at first glance, appeared childish and rather incoherent. Under a close scrutiny, however, the letters was cramped, but well practiced --as if the person had been writing with a uncooperative hand.

  


Yet another mystery to add to 

  


"Superas ad auras, hymnos angelorum," Yohji read aloud to the best of his ability, before looking quizically around the room. Latin. "Just _wonderful_. The one language I absolutely don't get." a soft sigh. Then, softly: "Asuka would have gotten it."

  


The paper crumpled under Yohji's fist.

  


A few seconds later, the door swung closed.

  


------------------------

  


"Mou, YOHJI! Put those _back!_" Omi made a jump for the plate of meat pies. Naturally, he missed.

  


Yohji chuckled, his spirits lightened by the familiar routine of Omi-baiting, "What'll you give me for it?"

  


"How about I _won't_ demand payment for your mile-long tab today?!" another angry jump.

  


"Hmm... good bribe, but I'm not selling."

  


"Yohji! Those were specially ordered! _Give it back!!" _the blonde boy made a frantic jump.

  


Lifting the plate above Omi's grasp, Yohji stepped back a few steps, turned, and was about to run away with his prize when Omi's foot stepped firmly down on his toes. Yohji winced, tripped, and crashed into a stool.

  


The plate of pies, of course, went flying.

  


"_YOHJI!!!_"

  


"No, no, I got it!" In one practiced motion, Yohji regained his balance and caught the plate. In a few movements of his arm, the man had managed to land most of the meat pies on to plate. 

  


The last pie however flew wide over Yohji's reach and landed with an assertive _splat!_ on a customer's shoulder.

  


"Ah! I'm terribly sorry!" Omi sprang into action. Grabbing a towel, the boy ran over to the customer and did his best to mop away the mess on the man's shoulder.

  


"No, it's okay, I get stuff splattered on me all the time!" the man's brown eyes were laughing beneath unruly chestnut bangs, "I'm just glad I'm not the cause of it. Again."

  


Yohji bit back a snicker.

  


"Well... If you want compensation, it's all Yohji's --that man over there's-- fault." Omi pointed to Yohji. 

  


Yohji whistled an innocent tune and pretended that he wasn't holding the incriminating plate of pies.

  


"So," Omi grinned, "if you want him to buy you breakfast, a new jacket, or maybe a house, know that he's held liable for fulfilling your every wish."

  


"Well... a house is tempting..."

  


"Don't be modest, demand a mansion!" Omi chirped in.

  


Yohji's eyes widened, then narrowed in a glare at the blonde boy. Setting the plate down, Yohji raked a hand through his hair. "No offence, but I ain't buying you a house unless you're getting married to me. And since you're male, and I'm male, that's not possible."

  


The man at the counter gave a small chuckle and seemed to bite back a retort. Instead, he offered his hand. Yohji shook it.

  


"I'm Ken Hidaka --and I'd like breakfast please."

  


Yohji gave a mock-servantile bow, "Yohji Kudo. How would you like your eggs, _sir_?"

  


"As expensive as possible!" Omi chirped in.

  


"Umm..." Ken pretended to think it over, "What the kid said."

  


"Omi! You're not helping!"

  


"Who said I had to? Oh, and Yohji?"

  


"What?"

  


"You owe me 1074 gaelons ...and 63 sylvirs." the blonde boy's face was smug, "Payment is due next Friday. No exceptions."

  


Yohji cussed. Colorfully.

  


The morning was no longer as entertaining.

  


------------------------

  


After watching Ken scarf away _his _breakfast using _his_ money, Yohji's pride was in shambles. He could usually win these little teasing games with Omi when it was one-on-one, but now the kid had someone _else_ on his side.

  


Not to mention that Omi had _finally_ set a deadline for his (infamously) long tab.

  


This was war.

  


Once Omi's back was turned serving other customers, Yohji slung an arm around Ken's shoulders. "Now that you're done with breakfast and all, wanna take a walk with me?"

  


The brunette raised an sardonic eyebrow, "I thought your motto was 'you're male, I'm male --no can do'."

  


"It still is."

  


Ken shrugged. "Fine by me --where to?"

  


"Oh, you know. _Around_. You're new around here, right?" Yohji got up to leave and Ken took the hint to follow.

  


"Is it that obvious?" the other man winced as they stepped out into the streets.

  


"Well, you haven't tried to lift my purse yet. That has to account for something." Yohji gave Ken a rakish grin, "This is Riverside afterall. The 'rules' here aren't as proper as the nobles have it up on the Hill."

  


Ken shook his head, "I'm not from the Hill... and besides, if all Riversiders are as bad as you say they are, then why hasn't anything been stolen from me yet?"

  


"You sure about that?"

  


"Wha--? Of course I'm sure!" the brown-haired man dug into his pockets and pulled out a full pouch. "See?" A triumphant --and utterly naive-- grin.

  


Yohji sighed dramatically and gave a sigh for emphasis. "Judging from the odd angles of the bulges in this money purse..." Yohji snatched the pouch from Ken's hand, hefted it into the air, and then deftly caught it again, "...as well as the weight and sound of its contents..." Yohji opened the pouch and presented it with a flourish to Ken, "...you were cleverly, but most definitely, robbed."

  


Within the purse, rocks had replaced whatever money it once held.

  


Ken gave a startled yelp. "B-but when --how --_why me_?!"

  


"Probably because you looked like an easy target." Yohji tried his best to look consolidating, all he could manage was an amiable smile. At least he managed not to smirk at the other man's misfortune. "Did anyone bump into you on the streets?"

  


"I passed the market on my way here--"

  


"Let me guess," Yohji held up a hand, "There was a big crowd and you couldn't help but bump into people."

  


"Yeah! That's right--" Ken stopped, then gave Yohji an annoyed/angry/petulant look, "Are you mocking me?"

  


"No, no, not at all." Yohji clapped a hand on Ken's shoulder, "This sort of thing happens to everyone in about the same way. Think of it as Riverside's welcome, if you will."

  


"But why would anyone risk it when they saw I brought _this_ along?" Ken gestured at the broadsword that hung sheathed at his side.

  


Yohji shrugged, "That's why they took the time to replace your pouch with rocks. It's too fool you long enough so that you don't give chase. Of course," Yohji gave the other man a surveying look, "that's assuming you know how to use that thing."

  


"Of course I do!" Ken indignantly huffed, "I wouldn't be carrying it around if I didn't."

  


Yohji approved of that motto. He himself used it, afterall. "Good. Now tell me you didn't bring your entire fortune with you in that purse."

  


"I'm not _that_ stupid!" Ken paused, then sighed, brown eyes downcast, "Problem is, I don't have much more right now. I was planning to get lodgings today, and my next stipend isn't going to come for another few days."

  


Things were going according to plan and Yohji congratulated himself for it. As it were, he did not possess the money --right now, anyway-- to fully pay off his tab. If he got Ken to plead Omi for an extension, then Omi would have to accept, if only for the sake of satisfying a customer. Though the boy was young, he was also one of the long-time workers of _The Canary._.. and as a worker at the center of a web of information networking in Riverside, Omi held human --albeit theives'-- integrity in high value.

  


Which is why, Yohji suspected, he himself had been allowed to stay unchecked for so long at the inn in the first place.

  


All he had to do really, was stall. Oh, he'd be expected to make a few down payments, just to convince Omi he was serious, but sooner or later, Omi'd stop nagging and his tab payments could start to gather dust once more.

  


Yohji turned back toward Ken and feigned pained indecision, "Well, I could help you out... but, you see, I'm already pretty low on money myself... _and_ I'd still have to pay Omi back... but then again, I could help by... no, no, no, that won't work.... or maybe it will..."

  


"W-what won't work --or might work?" Ken rose to the bait.

  


"I could lend you money... but..." a pause for dramatics, "...that's going to take some doing on both our parts.."

  


"What would I have to do?" Ken grabbed the bait.

  


"Go back over to Omi and ask him for an extension on my payment, would you? No, don't worry, nothing long --just until I finish my current job. By then, I'll have the money and then some to pay up. As for you, since it's not that big of a deal, just ask your boarding to be added to my tab. You can pay me --with a few extra sylvirs for interest, of course-- when you get your money. Sound good to you?"

  


"Yeah, that sounds reasonable... thanks Yohji!"

  


Hook. Line. And sinker.

  


"No problem!" Yohji gave Ken a good-hearted pat on the shoulder, "Now I've got some business to take care of, so I'll meet you back at the inn later alright?"

  


"See you later!"

  


And with that, Yohji sauntered off whistling.

  


------------------------

  


Yohji purposely and methodically spent the day away from the inn. It was always best to lay low for a bit after someone demands something from you. Even the lowest of the pickpockets knew this lesson. Those who didn't learn became the example after the guards were through when them.

  


Rather than visit _Shrient_, Yohji gambled his time and pocket change at the _Red Queen_. He left the bar a bit richer in money and beer than when he had entered.

  


When he did finally make his way back to _The Canary_, Yohji did not enter by the main door. He instead braved a climb up the delicate and quite collapse-friendly trellis --which usually a sane person never did unless he knew exactly where to step, lifted the latch of the hall window, and then walked to his room.

  


Upon unlocking the door, Yohji felt a vague sense of dread at the pit of his stomache. Immediately, he was on alert, scanning the room as best he could by the sparse lantern lights filtering through the curtains.

  


He noticed it at once:

  


The statue was missing.

  


His first reaction was that it was stolen. After what Manx had told him of his employer's murder, it didn't surprise him that there were people who sought the statue. What boggled him was _how_. There were only two ways out of his room: the door and the window. The door led to a short hallway (with one window) and then downstairs to the main floor of the inn. To leave by the hall window would have forced the theif to use the same route Yohji had to get up, and the vine trellis would have definitely collapsed under the weight of man and statue. To think that the man had simply waltzed out the front door was also impossible. As preoccupied as Omi was with customers, even he would have noticed a man dragging a _life-sized_ marble statue from the stairway which only held Yohji's apartment. An escape by his room window would also have been fruitless. It only led to a brief stretch of roof with no way down except by ladder, and such a ladder would have been seen in plain view from the main floor window.

  


As Yohji ticked off each and every possible solution, a defiant part of the mind told him of another answer. What if it was magic? What if, like the first night, someone had magicked the angel away?

  


Such thoughts made Yohji annoyed. Magic was something out of a bedtime story.

  


Magic wasn't real.

  


Someone real had stolen his goods. And though those goods had been reluctantly accepted, it was still a bargaining chip for payment. As his reputation demands of it, Yohji would make whoever that took the statue pay.

  


Out of the corner of his eye, Yohji saw movement and instantly stiffened, flattening himself against the wall. Something on his bed was moving. Yes, he was sure of it. Slow, almost awkward motions, but movement nonetheless.

  


A carriage took that time below to drive by and stop at _The Canary_. Voices, enunciated with alcohol, floated up from below along with fire-light from the torch-bearers.

  


In that brief few seconds of illumination, Yohji saw what --no, who-- was there.

  


Red hair splayed against alabaster skin. Marble wings heaved in the air. Dark eyes fixed on Yohji.

  


The statue was alive.

  


The carriage drove off into the night and the room was once again thrown into shadow and obscurity...

  


...but this time, Yohji could distinctively hear two sets of breath in the room.

  


------------------------

  


My god, has it really been this long since I wrote for this fic? (boggled) I figured I'd put it on hold for college applications, but as you can all tell, it's _waaaaay_ beyond that now. I do, however, plan to finish this darn thing considering that it's been rolling around in my head for so long and there isn't even Yotan-Ayan interaction yet... ;-;

  


I wonder if there's anyone still reading this thing? o.o;

  


...and if you are, review? :3


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